I think it’s about time to be honest at last. I don’t want to talk too much about my sickness. I have already talked too much about it. However, I want to talk about what defines me besides my condition. Now, I want to talk about my achievements. Not many people know me. I am not famous. Few know my name, and ever fewer my face. There are no photos, no articles, no reports—only my ideas. And yet, quite a few are familiar with my ideas. Some are even convinced by them. In fact, a book has already been written about me, although the author dismissed me as merely a pseudonym for an AI that supposedly developed this idea. Perhaps that is for the best, for I do not like standing in the limelight. I do not wish to be blinded by the fickleness of fame. But who am I? What have I done? Frankly, nothing particularly grand. It was a single publication, released without fanfare and without much hope that it would ever gain recognition, let alone have any influence. And yet, my word of it is slowly spreading. I had the idea when I was eighteen, during a brief, clear moment one evening as I waited for my beer at the bar. Not the final, complex, mature idea of today, but the simple, fragile spark of thought that I could just as easily have forgotten. It was the idea that democracy alone cannot withstand autocracies and imbalances in politics and economics. It was the realization that the efforts of the economy to exert influence can never be prevented, only channeled. It was the conclusion that a new foundation for effective and fair politics was necessary. That evening, I coined the neologism that would accompany me for years: Trigonocracy—the rule of the triangle formed by democracy, meritocracy, and technocracy. Aside from this idea, I consider one of my greatest intellectual achievements to have been the recognition, at eighteen, that I was not yet ready to perform the necessary intellectual work to develop a concrete form of my own idea. I was not capable yet—too little life experience, too little understanding of people—and simply not educated enough. So I saw it as my task to hold on to the idea and acquire the knowledge needed to tackle this mammoth undertaking. For that is what it was. There are disruptive inventions that change economies and entire societies. These recur in so-called Kondratieff cycles and shape entire decades. But political innovations have been far rarer in human history, shaping entire millennia. Despite these dimensions, I kept the idea in my mind and continued my education for ten years. At twenty-eight, the time had finally come. I decided to consolidate my knowledge and, slowly but surely, develop the framework for a new form of government—methodologically sound, transparent, and supported by research findings. Originally, I had planned three years for the concrete elaboration. However, current political developments—such as increasing radicalization in Europe, the Russia-Ukraine war, the plutocratization of the USA, and the growing danger of a world war—forced me to hurry. But not only the world, I myself was one of the reasons why I decided to complete the work as quickly as possible. Not least because of the knowledge of my own mortality, which was approaching ever faster. It was foreseeable that I did not have much time left; I had to face the task. For many times, I though about my duty to think this idea through to the end and present it to the world—as the duty of the one who conceived it. An idea that represented the solution to all these problems we have to face. An idea that perhaps no one else could have conceived. Parallel to my work as an archivist and contrary to my fears of getting lost in the subject and failing to finish the project in time, I created within four months a general form of the trigonocratic constitution. I must admit that I barely remember the actual process. It was like continuous sleepwalking. Illness and medication consumed my body, while my mind buried itself in an ongoing process of thought and creation. The goal was to find a resilient, dynamic, and flexible balance between the interests of various groups in society. I had to find equilibrium between rights and duties, between idealism and realism, between proven methods and forward-looking mechanisms. Nevertheless, there are weaknesses in the system I introduced. To this day, I worry whether implementing a trigonocratic constitution might plant the seed of a police state in which the Custodium seizes power. This idea is even addressed in the aforementioned book, confirming my fears. Perhaps this was the great mistake I made in the elaboration. However, I consider it the task of subsequent generations to handle my ideas prudently and to address the remaining issues. For one must acknowledge—and this judgment comes easily—that I have done enough. More than enough, if my invention is truly destined to change the world. Based on this work, I subsequently wrote my manuscript within a month, which explained the scientific derivation of the necessities and the individual elements of the constitution in detail across nearly 80 pages. I repeatedly emphasized that the blueprint I proposed is only a framework that must be adapted to each culture. For far too often in history, one's own values and ideas have been imposed on other peoples, even under supposedly good intentions. And every time, such an undertaking ended in disaster. This should not happen with my idea; thus, I incorporated this foresight into my work. In in the end of 2024, I submitted the paper to SSRN, which was published some months later, on February 12, 2025. I chose SSRN to avoid sensationalism. The idea should spread naturally, judged by its merit, not by its author, who, by nature, would have a positivist attitude toward it. The idea itself should spread without artificial interference. After the publication, I focused on my illness, yet I kept an eye on what happened to my work. Just two months after publication, someone unknown republished the paper under my name on another platform, and views and downloads steadily increased. I did not intervene. Yet the loud outcry did not come at first. However, a small group in the USA has been formed, adopting my ideas and further developing them; they are adapting the blueprint to their conditions, just as I recommended. I would be lying if I claimed I was not a little proud of this. But just as my invention could change the world, it would also be both desired and fought. But even in the unlikely event that it truly becomes so disruptive, I will not be there anymore. I will never have the chance to step up as the originator of Trigonocracy, nor actively or passively involve myself in processes related to this idea. And I think that’s a good thing. This form of government is intended primarily to prevent corruption. If it becomes globally known, developed, and demanded, its followers would revere the inventor; he would reap fame. But fame is power, and power corrupts. And I do not want to become what my own invention was originally meant to prevent. Trigonocracy should endure beyond its creator, like a structure that outlives its architect. This is neither an apology nor a farewell. It is an explanation that I have said what I wanted to say. My words stand in black and white, accessible to every person in the world—and there is nothing more to add to what I have written. The knowledge—the invention—is no longer my property. It belongs to humanity, to history. So let humanity and history decide how to deal with this knowledge. As for me—I do not have much time left in this world to accomplish anything else, anyway. But as long as the world still has time, much can be accomplished for good. I wish everyone who takes on this task all the strength and courage necessary. Do not remember me. Remember my words. ... View more